


rain stick summer

by watfordbird33



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:33:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watfordbird33/pseuds/watfordbird33
Summary: It was very cold that summer; cold enough so that when they took the board out into the shallows even Sirius did a fair amount of shrieking and kicking up spray.Or: they're all young and a little bit wild, and there is altogether not enough space on the old broken couch for the both of them.





	rain stick summer

It was very cold that summer; cold enough so that when they took the board out into the shallows even Sirius did a fair amount of shrieking and kicking up spray. There was some talk of scrapping the board for the summer--when by mid-July the high hadn’t broken eighty--but Jamie shot them all down. 

“It’s like rain sticks, you know,” she said, a little drunk one night and irritatingly sure of herself. Petra was already asleep in her lap, which left the broken couch for Sirius and Remus. It had far too much room and far too little, all at once, and it made Remus excruciatingly uncomfortable. 

“Rain sticks?” said Sirius. She made a dry, witty drunk, and had no patience for benevolent ones.

“Giving the weather a nudge,” said Jamie.

Petra made a faint noise and stuck out an arm, so her Timbers jersey rode up above her waist. Her stomach was sunburned because she’d been absurd and bought a one-piece with the front and back cut out.

“A nudge,” said Sirius.

“You’re not convincing me, Jay,” said Remus. She had her feet up on Sirius’s thighs, and an intriguing kind of drink in her hand, and it was making her feel far more dangerous and daring than she actually was.

“Just give me a second to turn my brainwaves into coherent sentences,” said Jamie, and went silent.

“Is she asleep?” said Sirius, who couldn’t see.

Remus shifted her feet and didn’t respond. Her heels were now very close to a spot on Sirius’s body she hadn’t ever allowed herself to think much about. She wondered if it was the drink, or just the day. She wondered if Sirius was thinking about that spot, too. 

Jamie made a rude noise. “I’m communing with the spirits. The rain gods.”

“Please, no more rain,” said Remus, covering her eyes. There had been a week between June and July where it had poured, and the tides ran so high sometimes they lapped at the path you’d take down to the water. That had been the hottest week, in a delightfully cruel twist of fate. Seventy-eight.

“No, it’s a metaphor,” said Jamie. She had put down her drink and started stroking Petra’s hair. Petra had wonderful hair. “The board. Bringing it out when it’s cold is like shaking the rain stick when it’s dry.”

“That actually made a little bit of sense,” said Remus.

“It’s not even that cold,” said Sirius. It was false bravado, though, and everyone knew it--she’d only taken one turn on the board, and capsized magnificently. She moved a little on the broken couch so that Remus’s feet moved too.

“You liar,” said Remus, trying not to think about where her heels were now planted.

“It was colder in--”

_ “Shut up,”  _ said Remus, Jamie, and Petra, all in unison.

“--New York,” finished Sirius, wistfully.

“Where you walked uphill both ways,” muttered Petra. Her face was still buried in Jamie’s lap, but she managed to imitate Sirius’s same wistful tone just about perfectly.

Sirius threw a pillow at her.

“And it was five o’clock in the morning all the time,” said Remus.

“I get no respect,” said Sirius, and tickled Remus’s feet. “Go back to sleep, Petra. Remus will take care of the abuse for you.”

Petra rolled over and put her face in Jamie’s stomach.

“Are you cold?” Sirius asked Remus. “Your feet are cold.”

“A little,” said Remus; “I was colder in New York.”

Sirius swatted her, then grabbed her arm and pulled her across the couch. Remus squealed. She was not normally a squealer, but she felt perhaps that this was an occasion that deserved a squeal or two. 

“I’ll warm you up,” said Sirius.

“Like hell you will,” said Remus. She recognized, vaguely, that her interesting drink had spilled a little down her stomach. “There’s an ice cube in my bra.”

“Let me help you with that,” suggested Sirius.

Remus bit Sirius’s elbow.

“If you two are going to flirt so blatantly,” said Jamie, eyes closed, “Petra and I are moving to the deck.”

“Carry me,” said Petra.

“We’re not flirting,” said Remus, even though she had just bitten Sirius’s elbow and Sirius had offered to retrieve an ice cube from her bra. And even though she wanted them to be flirting, very much. “She just spilled my drink.”

“No great loss,” Jamie grunted. “It was disgusting.”

“It was delicious,” said Remus.

“Like you,” said Sirius.

Petra yelped and dragged herself out of Jamie’s lap. Her hair was standing on end. Out of all of them, she was the one who had most vehemently protested the use of the board in sixty-degree weather. “I’m going on the deck.”

“I’ll come, too,” said Jamie, sleepily. “Carry me.”

Petra snorted. “Carry your own fat ass.”

Jamie got up and followed her out. She was admirably steady on her feet, especially with a drink to balance in her right hand.

“Good riddance,” said Sirius. “Is your drink okay?”

“It’s disgusting,” admitted Remus. She was still lying across Sirius’s chest, her elbow in Sirius’s waist, and now there were all sorts of interesting spots on Sirius’s body coming to mind. The ice cube was melting against Remus’s left breast. “Truly foul.”

“Have mine,” said Sirius.

“It’s water,” said Remus, surprised, when she tasted it.

“I know,” said Sirius; “isn’t it lovely?”

Remus pushed her face into Sirius’s armpit. It smelled aggressively Sirius in there. “I thought you were drunk,” she said.

“Nope,” said Sirius. “Not drunk. Did you want me to be?”

Remus didn’t really know how to answer that, so she turned her head and watched through the window as Jamie pinched Petra on the deck. Although today had been the coldest day all summer, Sirius radiated heat.

“Remy,” said Sirius, who was not one for nicknames. “Did you want me to be?”

“You smell bad,” said Remus, instead of an answer.

“I don’t think you wanted me to be.”

“Hmm.”

“Remy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Remus. Kiss me.”

_ “I’m  _ drunk,” said Remus.

“You’d do it anyway,” said Sirius.

Their mouths met somewhere in between the smiling, and it was the softest kiss Remus had ever been a part of. 

“You’d do it anyway,” said Sirius, into Remus’s mouth, “ma belle; je t’adore.”

Remus said, “I’d do it anyway. But I don’t speak French.”

“It’s okay,” Sirius said, and she kissed her again.

**Author's Note:**

> This may become a multichapter fic. But it may not. Stay tuned if you're interested. Thanks for reading :)


End file.
